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He stands with me still wrapped around him, one arm under my ass and the other across my back. He lays me down on the table across his open books. Paper slides under my shoulders. A heavy binding digs into my spine, and I don’t care. He looks down at me with his black eyes and his mouth open, and I can see the seams and the teeth in the lamplight. I love him so much I laugh out loud.

His hands go to the front of my gown and pull. The wool holds against the first pull, then the seam gives with a long, tearing sound. His claws open my bodice from the neck to the waist. My breasts come free of the ruined fabric, and my nipples tighten as he stares at them.

“Beautiful,” he says. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Don’t stop.” I’m laughing while I pull at his coat. “Get this off. All of it, get it off now.”

His coat clasps are stiff under my fingers, but I get them open anyway. He shrugs it off his shoulders and lets it drop. I go for the laces of his waistcoat while he goes for my skirts, and our hands tangle and get in each other’s way. I laugh again. I yank his shirt open and shove it down his arms. His skin is hot under my palms, pale and hard with muscle. I drag my nails down his chest just to hear what sound he makes.

He makes a good one.

He pushes my skirts up to my waist in one shove. My thighs are bare, my cunt is bare, and he puts his hand between my legs to feel how wet I am. His whole body goes still.

“Look at you,” he says. “Look how wet you are for me.”

“For you.”

I get his trousers open at last and reach inside. His cock fills my hand, long, thick, and already leaking at the tip. I stroke him once and he shudders.

“This is for me,” I say. “Put it in me. Please.”

He pulls me to the edge of the table by my hips. I wrap my legs around his waist and guide him with my hand. He pushes inside me in one hard stroke, and I cry out.

He’s big. I knew that. I’ve had him before, but the first time he barely moved and I set the pace. This time he gives me all of him without pausing, and my body has to stretch around him fast. It aches and it’s perfect. I grab his shoulders, dig my fingers in, and lock my heels at the small of his back.

“Incredible,” he says against my ear. “You take me so well. You’re incredible.”

“Move.”

“Aveline.”

“Move, please, fuck me, please.”

He moves like I ask him and fucks me hard against the table. The books shift under my back with every thrust while pages crumple under my shoulders. I hold on to him. His lips are parted above me, and I can see the dark inside of his mouth. I reach up, pull his face down, and lick the seam at the corner of his mouth. He groans. It comes out low, rough, and inhuman. I kiss him filthily, tongue, teeth, and spit, and he fucks me harder.

“Your mouth,” I tell him. “I love your mouth. I love it, don’t hide it, let me see.”

“Nobody has ever wanted to,” he says.

“Look at me.”

He does. He holds my eyes, drives into me, and talks the whole time. His voice keeps breaking lower.

“So beautiful. So wet. You feel so good around me. The way you give yourself to me, nobody has ever given me anything like this, nobody, you’re perfect, you’re perfect.”

“Yes.” I can barely get words out. “Yes, yes, please.”

“Tell me it’s mine.”

“It’s yours. I’m yours. Harder.”

He puts one hand behind my head and the other under my hip to angle me. At this angle, he drags across the exact place inside me that makes my vision blur. I moan, loud and shameless in the quiet library. No one can hear me but him.

“Will you stay?” he asks. “Will you live here with me?”

“Yes.” I pull him closer with my legs. “Yes, yes. I’ll stay. Forever. I’m yours, I’m yours.”

“Say it again.”